With Love, from Deutschland
by LeeLoop
Summary: It all started when Fritzy went running across her lawn, pantless, wanting to kill Puck and Finn, who ran over her cat. So how is it that she becomes a stand-in for Quinn, a counselor to a counselor and steals the heart of the least likely person?
1. New In Town

**This was inspired by several events. A fight in a parking lot, the information that my dog would be put down soon, and the greatest show on the face of the planet: Glee.**

It was bad enough that I was new in town, but when I saw the car come careening down the road while my cat went bounding across the yellow lines, I realized just how much I hated Ohio. I sprinted across the lawn, screaming at the top of my lungs. "You bastard! You fucker! My cat! My cat!" I saw its limp body squashed under the front tires of the car. A young man wrenched the passenger door open and came at me with a worried look.

"Oh my god," he muttered, looking from me to the cat. "Oh God, I am so sorry."

I felt tears brim up in my eyes. "My cat… you killed my cat," I repeated.

The boy behind the wheel poked his head out the window. "Hey, sorry," he said without much feeling. "We kind of need to be on our way so…" He paused, and his tan brow furrowed as he looked me over. I felt my face involuntarily pull into a grimace at the sight of his Mohawk. I watched him hide a snicker before asking, "Um, where are your pants?"

I looked down. I knew something felt funny when I was running. At least my t-shirt was big enough. I looked over at the other boy, whose face was still screwed up in a mix of confusion and worry. I felt my face redden. Maybe if I played crazy, they'd go away. I picked up a rock and held it threateningly. "You killed my cat!" I screeched. I lobbed the stone, and it landed a few feet away from the car. The boy with the Mohawk broke into hysterical laughter.

"Dude, cut it out! We just ran over her cat!" the other boy pleaded, looking at me nervously. "Look, we can pay you back. What's your name?"

I blinked. The insanity card wasn't working. I thought about lying, and then disregarded it. After all, I didn't expect to see them again. "Fritzy. Fritzy Schloss."

The mohawk boy laughed again. "What are you, some kind of crazy German?" I only shrugged. Why not? I wasn't exactly in a position to argue. None the less, I felt grateful when the other boy shot the driver a dirty look.

"Well, I'm Finn Hudson, and the guy driving-" Finn shot his friend another look, most likely to indicate that the cat's death had been his fault (which it was) "-is Puck. We'll pay you back, I promise. Um, can we get your address or something?"

My address? I didn't want these people at my house! Besides, the morning was chilly, and I was still pantless. I could feel the neighbors waiting to call my mother and make me come inside. "Nope!" I replied, forcing a chipper smile to form on my face. "I'm good. I'm great, actually, so, um, I should probably go find my pants." There was an awkward silence, which I responded to by running away. I really needed to start checking myself before I go outside.

As I bounded back over my lawn, I heard Puck say, "What a freak. I can't believe you wanted to pay her. You idiot."

"Hey, chill out," Finn snapped. "It's not like we'll see her again."

--

I cowered in the front of my Spanish class that Monday as Mr. Shuester put a reassuring hand on my bony shoulder. "Hey guys, this is Fritzy. She's new to McKinley High, so let's make her feel welcome, okay?" He beamed at his lack luster class. I just kept my eyes down. I had already seen Finn sitting next to an empty chair. I knew my fate.

"Um, sir?" I whispered. "Would it be okay if I transferred to German?"

He gave me a confused grin. "I thought you were fluent in German," he replied.

I licked my lips and dared to peek up from the floor. Finn was giving me a look that said, 'Hey, I remember you!'. I looked back down. "How about French then? I've never really liked Mexican food…"

There was no escaping it. I was forced to sit next to the boy who had killed my cat and seen me without pants. He tried his best to be friendly, and I tried my best to act deaf. Finally he just began asking questions.

"So, why do you keep your hair so short?" he inquired. I sighed and gave him an exasperated look. "I mean, it's not that it doesn't look good on you or anything, but don't you get called a boy a lot?" I did, actually, but I wasn't about to tell him that. "If I was a girl, I'd keep my hair really long. I've kind of always wanted to do that, but then people might get the wrong idea, you know?"

I slammed my pencil down on the table and whipped around to look at him. "If I answer your question, will you please shut the hell up?" He responded with a nod. "I never liked having long hair as a little kid, okay? I cut it off all the time. So when I got into high school, I just got it professionally done." I paused. "And thank you for knowing I was a girl."

He chuckled. "Well, your boobs are kinda big so… not that I was looking or anything! It's just kind of hard not to notice cuz you're a lot smaller than most of the other girls, so-"

"Hey," I hissed. "We had an agreement. I answered your stupid question, so shut it!" As we turned back to our class work, I couldn't help but look down at my chest. They were kind of big I guess… I glanced behind us at the cheerleaders. Their ironing board chests weren't helped by the sad-fitting uniforms. I turned back in my seat and caught a glance of Mr. Schuester. He was trying to hide the fact that he was laughing at me.

I hate Ohio.


	2. Happy Feet

**A/N: Thanks for giving me a look-through. I'll be continuing. The song used later is "Boogie Wonderland"**

If I thought Spanish class was bad, I was in for a big shocker when I got into the hallways. People sneered and laughed and ran into you. I actually fell down the stairs. Twice. I was lucky that I didn't break my legs. As I picked myself up from the floor, I remembered what my mother had said to me that morning. "Die Amerikaner werden Schlachtung Sie wie ein Baby Schwein!" she had screeched as I made my way to the bus stop. This basically translated to: "Americans will slaughter you like a baby pig". I think they were supposed to be words of wisdom. They just came across as her usual paranoid gibberish.

I managed to run into Finn again while I was trying to find my way out of the school. It was the end of the day, and already I had been dodging slushies and leaping over legs meant to trip me. I was a little out of breath when he asked me about my day. "Oh, you know," I panted, waving my hands around my head. "Same old same old."

He shook his head. "Oh come on. I know these kids can be kind of hard on you. But lots of people like exchange students. You could get really popular."

"I've lived in the country since I was ten," I informed him. "And I have no desire to be friends with any of these people. They're animals."

He shrugged. "Well, you know, you still have that cool accent."

"I have an accent?"

"Yeah. Um, just a little one." He held his pointer finger and thumb together to indicate just how small my accent was.

I heard the distant sound of desperate high school children beginning their stampede towards the front of the school. "Oh God…" I muttered.

He must have felt my terror at the thought of getting on the bus again. "Hey, why don't you come with me? I have Glee club in a few minutes, but you can come watch. It's really fun." I hesitated, thinking of how badly my day had gone so far. Finally, I consented to go with. It's not like the day could get any worse…

And, naturally, I was wrong. As soon as I walked through the doors, there sat Puck, Mohawk and all. He shot me a sly grin but didn't say anything. I kept my head down and sat in the back row. As their rehearsal began, I scanned the inhabitants of this so called 'Glee Club'. There were the usual divas: the leading lady and the black girl. Then you got into a few more minorities with the two Asian students. Then there was the gay guy, which was simply natural for American theatrical things. The wheelchair kid surprised me though. He was as into it as the others, but I felt bad that he couldn't dance with them. While my mother may have hated me for it, I simply adored dancing. I signed myself up for them when I was five, and managed to pay for them secretly through my father.

Mr. Shuester must have seen me fidgeting in my seat, because he called out, "Fritzy! Why don't you come join us?" I felt my stomach tighten into a knot, and I shook my head violently. I thought that perhaps if I acted as if I truly didn't speak the language, they might be stupid enough to believe it. Mr. Schue wasn't buying it though. "Come on, you sing, right?"

I shuddered. "A… a little. Yes." I saw him advancing upon me, and stuttered, "But, um, well, I don't really have anything prepared and, um, I'm not warmed up and I really shouldn't-"

I saw them all smiling at me. Even the cheerleaders who had tripped me earlier seemed to give me encouraging smiles. "Come on!" One cheered. "You can do it!"

I shook my head again. The last thing I needed was to have my weak singing torn apart by these savages. "No, no. I'm, um, I'm really more of a dancer actually," I admitted. It was a lame excuse, really, but I had nothing better.

Mr. Shuester's optimistic grin didn't falter. "Okay, you can dance for us then," he agreed. "What kind of dance do you practice?"

I swallowed. Had my mother been here, I would have taken my point shoes out of the gym bag next to me. But I felt the click of metal against the floor, and my blood surged. Slowly, I reached down and pulled my tap shoes out of the bag. I held them tightly, as a child might hold a security blanket. "Can you give me a beat?" I asked timidly.

Finn walked over to the drums and started a beat on the bass drum. The boy in the wheel chair picked up his guitar and started a tune that I recognized from the classes I had taken on the sly. I grinned, my feet started moving, and one of the girls (who I think was named Rachel) began to sing.

"_Midnight creeps up slowly into hearts of men who need more then they get, day light deals a bad hand to a woman who has made too many bets."_

The others joined in, and I felt myself going into riff after riff. I spun around as they sang out, "_The mirror stares you in the face and says 'Baby uh-uh, it don't work!"_

I slid across the floor and broke into a leap onto the chairs. "_You say your prayers, but you don't care!" _Rachel belted as I tapped past her. _"You dance and shake the hurt-"_

Their hands shot up to the ceiling, and all of us (me included) yelled, "DANCE!" I paused, finding myself up on the points of my tap shoes. Rachel looked at me and smiled, "_Boogie Wonderland!"_

"_Ah-ah, dance!" _the others joined in. As they sang out, I found myself unable to control my feet. I closed my eyes and the whole awful day, the new school, the humiliation all melted away. I was free. Free from my mother, the teachers, the students, everyone! I could do whatever I wanted.

The song ended, and I looked around at my peers. My chest was heaving, and my face was red. I felt my confidence slowly lowering itself to its normal rate. "Um…" I said quietly, looking back at the floor. "I'm sorry."

Mr. Shuester laughed. "Don't be sorry," he said, clapping me on the back. "We just found our stand-in, and our student choreographer!"

I stared at him. My brain had suddenly stopped working. What? Choreographer? I didn't _want_ to be a choreographer! I wanted to go home and finish my homework so mother could be proud to have me as a daughter. In her eyes, dancing was sinful, and ballet was the only exception. Besides, I didn't do that kind of dancing. I tapped, and I wasn't about to teach them that.

Then the other part of the sentence sank in. "Wait… stand-in?" Sounding for all the world like a foreigner, I said, "I thought dancers had to move."

Everyone chuckled, and the boy in the wheel chair said, "Quinn's been missing practice because… er-"

"She's been ill," Rachel cut in. "We need someone to fill in for her until she gets better. I mean, you may not be the strongest singer, but you'll have to do."

I only nodded. My body felt a little numb. I looked at their smiling faces. I should have been happy that they were accepting me into their strange practices. So why did I feel so terrified? "I-I really don't think I should," I replied. "My mother wouldn't like it."

"I can talk to you mother about it if you'd like," Mr. Shuester suggested. "It would be temporary."

I thought of him coming into my home and seeing the giant crucifix mounted on the wall. I imagined my mother asking if he believed in Jesus. She would probably throw wine in his face and scream about his baptism. It was times like these when I missed my father very, very much.

"That won't be necessary," I replied. I went and gathered my things from the back of the room. "I should be getting home."

I shot Finn a look of distaste on my way out. I was pretty sure he had been in on this little scheme to get me to join. I hoped my look said, "You traitor." But I think I just looked tired and confused, because I really was.

On my way out, I gave them all one last look. "Just one practice," Rachel pleaded. "Just one. If you don't like it, you can quit."

Without saying another word, I walked out the door. Their kindness had shaken me almost to my core. I wasn't sure if I could face it at the moment. Because before I joined them, I needed to deal with my mother.


	3. Talk to Me

**A/N: Just listened to the song, "The Ark" by Dan Romer and Benh Zeitlin. It's the song from the Google Chrome commercial. Anyway, it's a good song to write to, so look it up.**

When I walked out of the auditorium, I realized that I had missed the bus, and had no way of getting home. My face twitched into what I assumed was wretched despair, and I slumped against a wall in the hallway. I felt overwhelming tears springing up in my eyes. I wanted my father to come home so badly at that moment. I wanted him to walk through the front doors of the school and pick me up like he used to when I was small. But Father was in Germany, and I was stuck in this horrible school with nowhere to turn.

I heard a pair of high heels coming briskly down the hall. I looked up and saw a ginger-haired woman in a pastel blouse and skirt advancing toward me. I quickly wiped away my tears and tried to stand up. I only managed to step on my shoelace and send myself sprawling back onto the floor.

"Oh my goodness!" the woman cried, rushing over to me. "Are you okay?"

I grunted, "Yup. I think I bit my lip though." I reached up and touched the stinging part of my lip with a tentative finger. It came back red. I felt blood dribble down my chin a little.

The woman helped me up and handed me a Kleenex. "Aren't you one of our new students?" she asked, peering at my face. I only nodded. "What are you doing here at…" she glanced at the auditorium. "Are you in glee club?" Her face lit up suddenly, and she couldn't seem to take her eyes of the doors blocking our view of said club.

"Kind of, I dunno," I responded. "They want me to be their… their…" I struggled for the word. "Student dance-teacher or something like that." I took the Kleenex away and inspected it thoughtfully. "I don't want to though."

The woman looked stricken. "Why not?"

"Finn and his Mohawk friend are in it, and I hate them," I replied without malice.

The woman frowned. "Well… why don't we discuss this in my office?" she suggested. I was about to protest, but she put a gloved hand on my back and began leading me down the hall. I desperately looked back at the doors, hoping a student might come through and save me. But I could already smell the disinfectant and flowers coming from her office.

It was then, sitting down in a chair smelling of Lemon Pledge and holding a bloody napkin to my face that I made my first real friend at McKinely High School. Her name was Emma Pillsbury, and despite being the school counselor, she seemed to need more help than her students. While I was in no position to feel so, I pitied her. Her painfully placed plants and protective gloves matched her pleading eyes and hopeful smile all too well.

"So, you've met Mr. Shuester?" she immediately quipped.

I blinked. "Yes. He's my Spanish teacher."

"And-and, um… the other kids… the club and-" she took a breath and slowed herself down. "How are you adjusting to our school?"

I thought about my day so far. It had officially been the worst day of my life. I was already feeling the pressure of grades and extra-curriculars, and I had barely started. Instead of telling her this, I simply shrugged. "It's alright," I assured her. "Could be better."

She frowned slightly and began rearranging the pencils on her desk. "And what about Glee club? Why don't you want to join?"

"I already told you, I hate them," I replied. I could hear the strain in my voice.

"All of them?" she goaded.

I shook my head. "No. Just Puck and Finn."

"Why?"

I gripped the sides of my chair. I could feel my face turning red as I replied, "Because they killed my cat and I didn't have pants on." Her shocked look made my brain go into overdrive. "Then Finn wouldn't shut up in Spanish and I had to tell him to shut up and he talked about my chest and I felt uncomfortable but we were kind of friends then he tricked me into going to glee club and Shuester wants me to dance some more and ICAN'TDOITIJUSTCAN'TDOITOKAY?" I forced my mouth shut and put my hands over my face.

Ms. Pillsbury blinked several times. She had stopped rearranging things and now had her hands folded neatly in front of her. "Well… what was your name again?"

I gulped. "Fritzy. Fritzy Schloss. I don't have a ride home," I felt the babble wanting to spring forth again, but I clamped my mouth shut.

"Well." That was all she said for some time. I looked down at the floor and tried to count the dots in the carpet pattern. I was at 85 when she spoke again. "I'll give you a ride home, if you'd like. I'd like you to tell me some more, Miss Schloss."

I nodded. I didn't want to talk anymore, but I did want to go home. My mother would have a fit if she saw the clock. I didn't want to risk having the curtains torn down again. They were a pain to put back up.

As we exited the school, I saw the wheelchair boy being helped into the back of a large vehicle. My father had often told me that we should get such a van for my mother, but we had never gotten around to it. He saw me and motioned for the person helping to cease. He beckoned for me to come closer, and with Ms. Pillsbury's encouragement, I obeyed.

"Hi," he said, smiling. "So are you going to accept Mr. Shue's offer?"

"Um," I said uncertainly.

"Well, if you do, I have a few suggestions for some of the routines. Something a little more," he patted the arm rests of his chair, "-wheelchair friendly."

"Um," I replied.

"Well, see ya." He continued getting into the van while I hurried back to the semi-safety of Ms. Pillsbury.

She patted my shoulder, and I heard the crinkling of gloves. I would soon grow to love that sound, even take comfort in it, but at the moment it only heightened my anxiety. "Well, you seem to be making friends already," she said. "All the more reason to join glee club."

I suddenly narrowed my eyes. My anxiety had turned into suspicion. "Wait… why do you want me to be in this club so badly?"

She started, and then quickly regained her composure. "I think it will be good for your growth and development at this school, and-"

"Liar," I spat. "Is this some sort of game you play with children? Trying to force them into things they don't want to do? You're sick."

"No! No, that's not it at all!" she cried, putting a hand to her mouth. "I just… well… Mr. Shuester is, um…"

My eyes widened with realization. The pieces seemed to fit a little better at that moment, and I felt a grin spread across my face. "Miss Pillsbury, are you and Mr. Shuester a component?"

Her brow furrowed, and she stopped to look at me. "Do you mean an item, perhaps?"

I shrugged it off. "Same thing. Are you implying that I should be your spy?" I pressed, slightly amused.

"Well, I wouldn't put it like-"

"I mean, I've only just met you. The least you can do is at least offer me something in return."

"I'm giving you a ride home," she insisted, motioning to her car. My look must have said, 'not good enough', because she sighed and said, "Fine, what do you want?"

I absently touched my swollen lip and replied, "I want to be moved from Spanish two to German two, no questions asked."

At first, she looked hesitant. I held out of free hand and raised my eyebrows. "Take it or leave it," I said firmly.

She shook my hand, therefore sealing not only our deal, but our friendship. We both got into her car, and as she turned the key I heard her mutter, "Oh God, I'm becoming Sue."


	4. Confessions

**A/N: I actually got a review! You have no idea how much that brightened my day. **** Inspiration for this chapter provided by "Forever" by Walter Meego.**

In Ms. Pillsbury's car, I watched the scenery move quickly out the window to make room for more. I had to keep shifting positions, which was awkward because the seats squeaked every time I moved. At the first red light, she asked me a few more questions. How was school, why didn't I really want to join, where did I live- the usual things. But after that, it was my turn.

"So, why did you choose me to do your dirty work?" I asked lightly, drawing faces on the window with my finger. "I mean, is it just because I happened to be there or what?"

She took a deep breath and replied, "You're a new student. A new foreign student. That means you can come into my office a lot without questions being asked."

I nodded and continued, "So, what exactly will I be doing for you?"

"Just find out what his situation at home is like," she answered curtly. "See how he and his wife are doing, how the baby's doing-"

"He has a wife?!" I cried. The idea of this sweet woman going after a married man was shocking and a bit sickening to me. Had he cheated on his wife with this woman already? Were they planning to? And she had a child for goodness sake! It was almost more tragedy than I could bear.

"Yes, I know. It's horrible," Ms. Pillsbury sniffed. "He never talks to me about her anymore. That might have had something to do with me marrying Ken…"

"YOU'RE MARRIED?"

"Well, yes. But that's not really important," she replied.

I shook my head and went back to looking out the window. "My mother was right," I huffed. "Americans are twisted."

"Oh please, you're telling me this doesn't happen in Switzerland?"

"Germany."

"Right."

I frowned. "Well, of course it does, but we don't take it as lightly as you guys do. At least, my family doesn't. If my father ever had an affair, it would drive my mother even farther off the deep end."

"Farther?" Ms. Pillsbury inquired.

I closed my eyes. "My mother isn't the soundest person in the world," I told her matter-of-factly. "Yesterday she threw dinner against the wall and started making a painting of Mother Mary with it. Then she tore down the curtains when I tried to clean it up." I noticed her shocked face and hurriedly added, "But she isn't always like that."

"Where is your father for all of this?" she gasped. "Does he know?"

"Of course he does. But he's on a business trip in Germany right now. He'll be back in a few months," I assured her. "And we have a nurse who comes in to give mother her medication and make us dinner. She helped me put the curtains back up."

"Oh my," Ms. Pillsbury murmured, shaking her head in disbelief. "That is not a healthy environment for a growing young woman."

I only shrugged. I always figured that other people had it worse. After all, I could be taking care of my mother all by myself, or be a starving orphan. And I had my father's return to look forward to. It wasn't like I was in total despair or anything.

We finally pulled up to my house, and I thanked her and got out of the car. "I can give you rides home from Glee club every day, if you'd like," she said, attempting a wink but giving me more of a face spasm. I smiled and waved as she pulled away. Then I walked back behind my house and vomited noisily from car-sickness.

--

The next day seemed a little brighter for me. I thoroughly enjoyed German class. As soon as I walked into that classroom, I thanked God for Ms. Pillsbury under my breath. There was no sign of Mohawk or Finn anywhere.

And it was that day that I attended my first session of this so-called "Glee Club". When I walked in, everyone beamed at me, and a few of them clapped. Mr. Shuester put an arm around me and sat me down in the front row of chairs. "Welcome Miss Student-choreographer!" he chirruped. He handed me some sheet music. I flipped through it, but none of these songs seemed familiar.

He began talking to the group, and I began to survey the people around me. They all looked pretty happy to be there, with the exception of Puck, who just looked bored. I was already contemplating formations when I heard my name being called. I looked up and sputtered, "Oh-huh? Yes?"

Mr. Shuester replied, "We were just wondering if you had gotten the sheet music yet." I shook my head, and he handed me a pile of music. "These are all the songs that I haven't had time to choreograph yet." I nodded and skimmed over them. I didn't know any of these songs, and the lyrics confounded me. How were we supposed to defy gravity? How exactly _did_ people breathe with no air?

I sat to the side and watched them practice for awhile, but my attention was soon lost. I looked through the music a few more times, tapped my feet and thought of a few easy combinations for everyone. Mr. Shuester seemed to notice my boredom. He walked over and sat next to me. "So, are you ready to start teaching them?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I guess so." I suddenly remembered my mission. I piped up, "So… you're married right?"

He gave me a strange look. "Um… yes," he replied.

"How's that going for you?"

"Fine… fine…" he began to look uneasy. I worried that he was catching on to me, so I quickly shifted gears.

"I have always wanted to get married," I sighed. "My mother wanted to arrange my marriage, but my father was against it." I paused. "He would like you," I added quickly.

Mr. Shuester gave me a look before going back to his students. I frowned. That hadn't gone the way I had hoped it would. I supposed later on I could squeeze more information out of him. At that moment, a bout of inspiration hit me.

Here's the thing with dance: for me, inspiration comes only at the most unlikely times. I can't walk into a studio and make something up. It usually takes place in an elevator, during a class or while eating. So, sitting in the practice room thinking of ways to manipulate Mr. Shuester, I was struck by a vision of dance. I stood up and waved my arms around. "Mr. Shuester!" I cried. "I'm ready! I'm ready to teach them!"

He turned to me and smiled in a bewildered fashion. "Alright," he said, "Take it away Fritzy."

--

"No!" I cried, stomping my foot impatiently on the ground. "It's pivot-turn, step-step, hip shake, _then_ a Russian. If you don't get it now, you never will. Try it again." This was met by a series of groans and cursing. I only smiled and watched my puppets dance for me. I liked this feeling of control. It was kind of a new concept for me, but I seemed to be getting the hang of it.

I watched them strike their finishing poses, and I smiled. "Alright. That was much better. We can add on tomorrow, okay?" Everyone trooped out of the room, rubbing sore muscles and complaining bitterly. I gathered my things and turned around to find an angry looking Rachel in my face. "Hello," I said, smiling politely.

"Look," she snapped, "You're not the only dancer around here. I've been classically trained by the best ballet teachers in the tri-state area since I was two, and I'm not about to let you upstage me. You may be a fill-in for Quinn, but I'm team captain. Got it?"

I blinked. "You talk too quickly for me," I told her. "My ride is waiting. See you tomorrow."


	5. Game Night

**A/N: This actually happened to me. And come on, the Glee kids really should go support Finn and Puck every once in awhile.**

Finn caught up to me as I was leaving. "Hey buddy!" he said, slapping me on the back. "You weren't in Spanish today."

I glared at him. "I switched out. I'm in a different language now," I informed him.

His smile faltered to the look of a kicked puppy. "Oh, " he replied. "Was it because I was talking too much?" I ignored him and tried to get to Ms. Pillsbury's car. He stepped in front of me again. "Look, I feel like I've been making your life kind of miserable, and I've only known you for a little bit."

"Well, you're not making it any better by standing in my way," I huffed.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "But, Puck and I still owe you for your cat."

"I don't want your money," I insisted. "I just want to go home." I began to walk away, but he trotted after me.

"Well, I've been talking with Puck, and we… well, I want to make it up to you," he insisted. "You should come to one of our football games. We can get you in for free."

"Football?" I repeated. "Why would I want to do that?"

He shrugged. "I dunno… it could be fun, right? There's one tonight, and I think it would be really cool if you could come."

I suddenly felt sorry for him. He was just trying to be nice. I finally caved and agreed to go. He grinned at me and said, "Thanks. You'll like it a lot!" before trotting away. I sighed and walked into the labyrinth of the parking lot, where Ms. Pillsbury was waiting.

--

"TOUCHDOWN!" I yelled, standing up.

"No, it's just the first down," Rachel corrected me. "They still have a ways to go before-"

"This is fun!" I laughed, cutting her off. "I really like this baseball thing!"

"Football," she huffed.

"Yeah, that too." I beamed at her and sat down again. "What are those orange things for?" I inquired.

"I think they're like, flags or something," Tina piped up.

"No, they mark where the last down was," Artie replied from in front of me.

"Then what are the flags for?" Mercedes demanded.

Artie shrugged. "Penalties I think," he answered.

Rachel began clapping enthusiastically. "Go Finn!" she hollered. "Get a touchdown!"

"Can quarterbacks get touchdowns?" Kurt asked suddenly.

"I don't think so," Artie replied.

"A quarter-what?" I asked.

"_Back_," Rachel snapped. "Quarter_back_. They're the best players on the team."

"Are you sure?" I replied, watching the players smash into each other. "He doesn't seem to be doing a whole lot."

We all watched in silence for a little bit. Something happened, and the crowd cheered. I leaned in and whispered, "Touchdown?"

Artie laughed and shook his head. "No, but we intercepted the ball."

"Is that good?" He nodded, and I grinned. "Okay. Good." I sat back and shifted my position a little. I glanced at Rachel, who didn't seem to be enjoying sitting next to me. She kept giving me glances that felt like daggers (or however that saying goes). As we headed into what I think was called 'half-time', she turned to me as the others shuffled around. Before she could say anything, I tried to run for it. She caught me by the wrist and pulled me back.

"Knock it off," she hissed.

I felt my face crumple into one of bewildered hurt. "What?"

"You know what I'm talking about," she snapped. "Finn, Mercedes, Kurt- everyone! They all love you! Finn even invited you to one of his games!"

I shrugged. "I think they're just trying to be nice."

"I think not," she replied. She released my hand and I recoiled immediately. "I think you've got them under some sort of Ukrainian spell."

"German," I muttered, rubbing my wrist.

"Whatever," she huffed. "The point is, you're trying to take Fi- everyone away from me. I won't stand for it."

"But I'm not-" She flounced away before I could finish. I sighed and slumped down onto the bleacher. My butt slipped out the back, and I suddenly found myself folded between two metal bleachers. "Ouch," I muttered. "Um, help?"

I saw Finn down on the field. He caught sight of us and waved with a big stupid grin on his face. I tried to wave back, but my elbows kept hitting the bleachers. Some of the other football players shoved Finn as they passed. I frowned. "I thought quarterbacks were popular."

"They are," Mercedes replied, "But when you roll with people like us, you get beat up."

"Oh…" I said. I watched the players get back into position. I didn't want to get beat up, but I really didn't want to be popular either. It was nice to find somewhere where people could be so nice to you, but at the same time, I had to wonder. What would it be like to be liked by everyone? Finn _did _say that accents were cool after all.

The whistle was blown and the players got into their positions. I yanked my behind out from between the bleachers and clapped my hands. "V-I-C-Z-O-R-Y! That's the… um… something battle cry!" Artie looked back at me, and I smiled sheepishly. "It was close enough. Hey!" I leaned forward. "The teams switched sides! That's not fair! HEY! HEY YOU PLAYING PEOPLE! YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!" The others shushed me while the people around us snickered.

"They're supposed to do that… right?" Tina asked. The others nodded in agreement.

I crossed my arms. "That doesn't seem fair at all," I huffed. "Our team was really close to the goal before. TOUCHDOWN!" I yelled, standing up.

"Nope, first down," Artie corrected me.

"Same thing," I replied, waving it away. I glanced around, but Rachel was nowhere to be found. My eyes drifted onto the field, and I spotted her on the side-lines. She was chatting with a blond girl who was seated near the cheerleaders. The blond looked in our direction, and then pointed right at me. Rachel nodded as if to confirm it. The blond looked back up at me and…

To put it in more American terms, she looked pissed.


End file.
